❦𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐯𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫❦【 DreamSMP // Technoblade 】

❦One Hundred Five❦

He didn't respond.

I didn't expect him to.

❧

Torva was out of breath, gasping for air with her axe limply in her palm. Shedding her shirt to expose her skin to cold Arctic winds, sweat sticking to the fabric. She had been doing combat practice for hours now in the woods nearby the cabins, whether she was doing so to release anger or not she didn't want to think too hard about.

Maybe that was a stone she would rather leave unturned for the time being. It was easier to think she had spent hours in solo combat practice just to keep up her stamina or something. Choosing to ignore the fact that she was technically un-needing of the same extensive training she endured previously as a mortal. Something half human and demon. She found that slowly as her body acclimated to whatever power Kristin gifted her, she was seemingly stronger than previous days. It grew exponentially before it came to a halt, leaving her in similar strength to the other two Gods in the Arctic.

She chose not to think too hard either about the red sparks that flew from her hands at the red banquet, seemingly overflowing as anger found it's own creative way to escape side by side with Foolish. Those sparks haven't returned since, and maybe if she ignored them hard enough they would just go away.

Torva leaned against a nearby pine tree at the outskirts of the thick forests, letting her shirt fall out of her hand and hit the snow underfoot. She could see the cabins in the distance, her son's smaller house tucked away in the nook of the mountain. Dogs running around the fenced in commune nipping at each other's tails playfully. Each one carefully named by the 'chat' that plagued Tech's mind, she didn't hear 'chat' much anymore on her own. Maybe she just didn't get as angry as she used to.

She was mistaken though, anger flaring up at the resonating sound of crunching snow behind her deep in the woods. The woman stood up straight, eyes flickering around wildly. The source didn't bother to hide himself, hands up to show he was no danger and a grin on his face.

Quackity was stood proudly amongst the pine trees, the Reaper glaring him down and slowly readying her axe despite his lack of weaponry. Two visits ago when he was around here it swiftly resulted directly in Tech using a totem underneath an anvil and an axe in her gut. But maybe that unruly favor was returned with the fake eye and long scar on his face, all she has is a gnarly scar along her gut and back. Both caused by the axe of his that penetrated her body, she has it in her enderchest still.

Which those scars she knew he could clearly see due to her only being in a sports bra. She could tell the man was kind of pleased that he caused damage even if it resulted in his own death.

"Ayy- ay ay ay-" Quackity spoke, slowly walking up to Torva. Kind of confused on how she wasn't shivering in the cold, he felt foolish for having to stop his teeth from chattering while she was comfortable without layers and layers of clothing. "I'm just here to talk, alright? Just hear to talk." He repeated, seeing her cautious expression. The way her eyes wouldn't leave his hands, watching for any malicious movement or indication.

They both knew he'd lose in a fight anyway. Blood would stain the snow and turn the pure white a thick vermillion. And it wouldn't be Torva's.

"Okay." Torva spoke in a monotone voice, not letting emotion waver as she stared down the shorter. "Choke it out." She demanded, axe still at the ready despite his words.

Quackity nodded, smirk slowly appearing on his scarred features. "You see, I just came to you about a proposal. You're a strong person everyone would say, everyone wants a piece of you on their side." He began, step by step moving closer to Torva, as if unfazed by the sharpened and glowing axe. "Doesn't that get tiring? Being some Gods's lap dog and getting passed around like an object for war?"